


The Autobot Lovers Club

by TheAwkwardEnthusiast



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Hurt/Comfort, Jazz is Suspicious, Just Two Pining Idiots...Supporting One Another, M/M, Megatron Is Too...But Only A Little Bit, Mild Angst, Skyfire Is Clueless, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tarn's A Dick, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAwkwardEnthusiast/pseuds/TheAwkwardEnthusiast
Summary: The Autobot Lovers Club began as a practical joke, a jest between comrades that eventually evolved into something beyond their control. Starscream, as acting president, found it thrilling. Soundwave, its vice president, amusing.But when the DJD catch wind of it, things become...complicated.
Relationships: Jazz/Soundwave, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Starscream/Skyfire
Comments: 43
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this started because of a [prompt](https://twitter.com/itzenthusiasm/status/1297036328484315136) on twitter. Originally, it was just meant to be a simple story summary without any actual writing taking place but this plot bunny spawned into something much bigger. 
> 
> This is not meant to be taken too seriously. It's super self-indulgent. XD

“What is this?”

Starscream took the datapad from Soundwave’s outstretched hand, upper lip twisted in disgust. It was a front, of course, because his optics shone with keen interest as he powered the device up and read the display.

Howver, his helm jerked back in surprise when he finished reading and he whipped his helm to glare at Soundwave. “I won’t fall for your manipulations,” he hissed, optics narrowing with distrust.

Soundwave sighed softly, shaking his helm. “Negative. Manipulations, not intent.”

“Please,” Starscream purred dangerously, leaning to rest his hip against the table behind him. He flipped the datapad around to show the brightly colored words on the screen. “Autobot Lovers Club? You think I’m a fool?” He slammed the datapad on the table, the sound reverberating harshly off the walls. But it was nothing compared to the anger burning in Starscream’s optics.

“I allow myself to indulge in a couple cubes of enex, tell you a deeply guarded secret out of pure folly and you think it’s funny to hold it over my head.” Starscream shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let me guess, this is your way of telling me to finally take Rumble and Frenzy off rivet duty, isn’t it? Well, I won’t budge. The firecrackers they set off in Skywarp’s berth made him warp into a wall and I won’t even bother listing off how much trouble it was to pry him out while Thundercracker wallowed around like a kicked puppy.” He hissed sharply, annoyance flaring in his field. “They won’t let each other out of sight, not even for their missions. Your little cretins can handle a couple more orns washing out the saltwater from their joints.”

Soundwave let him finish, posture impeccable. “Soundwave, agrees.”

“Of course you do!” Starscream huffed. “Well, that’s the last time I ever— _wait_.” His wings shot straight up in the air. “You what?”

“Soundwave, agrees.”

That made Starscream go silent. Normally when it came to the twins, Soundwave’s defense of their actions tended to be insurmountable and Starscream had been preparing a counter argument since the day he’d assigned them such a grueling task in the case Soundwave ever tried to contest it.

Optics narrowing, Starscream allowed his posture to unstiffen minutely. Perhaps Soundwave’s intentions were not as condescending as he’d originally anticipated.

He reached behind him, picking the datapad back up. There was a tiny crack on the corner of the screen but the display was still functional. The green hue of the words made his optics ache but the defensive anger in his Spark was subsiding, replaced by genuine interest.

“Is the room secure?” He asked, careful to keep his tone indifferent.

“Affirmative. Ravage, patrolling the vents. Laserbeak, assisting.”

Starscream grimaced. “So they’re in on it too, eh?”

“Soundwave and Cassettes, the whole package.” The Earth euphemism sounded odd coming from the telepath but Starscream did nothing more than give his wings a dismissive flick.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Just get on with whatever explanation you had planned when you ambushed me.”

Soundwave nodded once. “Soundwave suggests creation of Autobot Lovers Club, to offer Starscream safe venting space.”

The Seeker snorted. “Venting space.” He repeated, shaking his helm. “I ambush you one time and suddenly you think I have vorns and vorns of built up regret and repent over some stupid past relationship.” He tsked softly, refusing to meet Soundwave’s gaze. When the telepath said nothing, Starscream turned to look at him and he grimaced upon seeing the knowing look in that usually unreadable red visor.

“Ugh. Fine.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “So, you caught me. What a fine master of espionage you are. Megatron must be so proud.”

Soundwave replied, “Megatron will not be involved in club’s activities.”

A gasp. “Soundwave,” Starscream purred, leaning forward with a huge grin parting his lips. “Megatron’s perfect little soldier, suggesting treason? I’m shocked.”

“Negative. Autobot Lovers Club, does not violate Decepticon code.”

“Oh, really?” Starscream gave him a pointed look. “Autobot _Lovers_ Club. Just repeating the name is enough to get us thrown onto one of Shockwave’s experimenting slabs. It promotes fraternization with the enemy.”

Soundwave cocked his helm. “Starscream, anticipates acting upon impulses?”

The Seeker jerked his helm back, aghast. “Wha--? _Of course not_!”

“Then club’s existence, harmless.”

For a moment, Starscream was silent. He pursed his lips and glanced down at the datapad in his hands, optics narrowing as he delved deep into thought. The indecision was visible in every stiff line in his frame, in the way his fingertips thrummed against the back of the device in his hand and the occasional flicker of his wings.

In the end, he let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

\---

“I’m not going in there.” Starscream shook his head and planted his feet, a defiant edge to his EM field.

Soundwave pressed his hand against the matrixpad, waiting patiently as the system scanned his biometrics and unlocked the door. He turned to look at Starscream over the cusp of his shoulder pauldron. “Soundwave’s quarters, secure. Safest place for reunions.”

Starscream glanced around, shoulders hunching. “Everyone will get the wrong idea,” he whispered harshly. “Me, going into your personal quarters? You may as well bend me over the table of the war room during the morning announcements and have your way with me.” There was a mild note of disgust in his tone but Soundwave thought nothing of it. The lack of interest was, after all, mutual.

But now was not the time for nitpicking. Ravage alerted him that Acid Storm was making his usual rounds a few hallways down and it was only a matter of time before Starscream’s fears of being seen were actually made reality.

He stepped aside, gesturing for Starscream to enter of his own volition one final time. Starscream, naturally, refused.

So Soundwave took matters into his own hands. He reached out to grab Starscream’s wrist and dragged him inside.

The Seeker blubbered indignantly as Soundwave deposited him into one of the beanbags situated next to the door but he quickly shut up in favor of glancing around the spacious room. His red optics widened in surprise as he took in the brightly colored walls, the off-center posters of Earth rock bands pasted on the wall and the twin racing car berths taking up half of the room. His fingers kneaded the soft material of the beanbag and he slowly shifted himself into a more comfortable position.

“This...is not what I expected.” He glanced down at the array of toys on the floor, impressed by how seamlessly Soundwave was able to step around them to sit on the tiny berth that apparently was his. Next to it was a cat tree and in one of the upper baskets, Buzzsaw’s sleeping form was visible. He didn’t stir but he did flick a wing in a silent gesture of acknowledgment.

“Apologies for the mess,” Soundwave replied, hands folding into his lap. “Cassettes, prone to creating disarray.”

“I can see that,” Starscream said, lips pursing. When Soundwave failed to respond, Starscream took out the datapad from his subspace. “So, about the club...”

Soundwave took out a similar datapad from his own. “Meetings shall take place here,” he stated, bypassing the awkward tension with straightforwardness. “Scheduled twice a week, during our respective breaks.” He typed something into the datapad. “Activities will be planned in advance. Soundwave, shall send itinerary ahead of scheduled meetings.”

Starscream frowned. “Wait, we? Are you going to participate too?”

“Affirmative.”

Optics narrowing, Starscream asked. “A club needs members with active interest; far as I know, I am the only one who fits the criteria. What possible interest could you have in this?”

Soundwave was ominously silent. He didn’t move and his ventilations, usually audible as they passed softly through his modulator, were suspiciously absent. Even Buzzsaw’s gentle snores had disappeared, adding to the heavy silence between them.

Starscream crossed one leg over the other, his interest piqued. “I don’t believe it,” he drawled, voice preening. “Soundwave, having affection for an Autobot?”

There, he expected a retort from the telepath. A shake of his helm or maybe even a tersely worded denial. But Soundwave said nothing. He did, however, clench his fists.

It was only natural for Starscream to pry. “Who is it?” He asked, grinning. “Is it Blaster? Primus knows you spend enough time plotting new ways to overcome his blasted musical attacks whenever you get the opportunity.” He tapped a finger against his lip. “Though you have been getting pretty obsessive with your attacks against Prowl. Granted, everyone has a bone to pick with him but blasting him while he was down during that skirmish in the mine was low, even for you.”

A pause then Starscream’s optics widened as realization finally dawned over him. He snapped his fingers. “Oh no,” he chuckled, muffling the sound with the back of his hand. “Oh, Soundwave, _no_.”

Soundwave glanced away, his visor dimming.

Starscream guffawed, hands wrapping around his midsection as he shook with each laugh. “You, of all mechs, are the last one I ever expected to go chasing after things that go bump in the dark. Or should I say, someone.” He wrinkled his nose. “And a grounder of all things. I don’t know if I should be intrigued or disgusted.”

“...Affection, temporary.” Soundwave finally said, voice sounding strained. “Soundwave, indulging Starscream.”

The Seeker pointed a finger at him. “Don’t blame me for this. I didn’t ask you to make this stupid club. You could have easily just turned this into some kind of confession but you chose to include yourself.”

Soundwave looked like he wanted to argue but he was a logical mech at Spark and he stayed quiet. “Starscream...correct.” The words sounded like they were spoken through gritted teeth and Starscream grinned, pleased with himself. Now the tables were perfectly balanced; they both had dirt on the other.

Suddenly this club didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Wings giving a happy wiggle, Starscream said, “I accept your terms. Whatever they are. After all, clubs are only fun when you have someone to share it with.”

The telepath slowly glanced back at him, visor brightening. Whether it was because Starscream had agreed or because he hadn’t pried any further into his infatuation with the Autobot saboteur, it was hard to tell but Starscream appreciated his cooperation.

Slowly, Soundwave nodded. “Soundwave, appreciates sentiment.”

Starscream sniffed. “Don’t get sentimental on me,” he scowled. “We still have our reputations to uphold.”

Straightening his back, Soundwave seemed to agree. He glanced down at the datapad and wrote something down, flipping it so that Starscream could see the screen. It was an agreement, brief and succinct.

> _Members of the Autobot Lovers Club, Soundwave and Starscream, agree to discuss affections for Autobot enemies, Jazz and Skyfire, only during club meetings. Outside of club meetings, the Autobot Lovers Club does not exist and both members shall deny its existence if questioned. Neither member shall act upon their affections. If one member suspects the other has breached any of these terms, permission is granted for the other to protect their own self-interest._

Underneath it was Soundwave’s signature, glyphs the same messy scrawl that Starscream always hated seeing. Next to it was an empty line, waiting for Starscream’s own signed agreement.

He paused, lips twisting to one side but then he cursed. “Oh, what the slag.” He wrote his designation, in perfect calligraphy, in the empty space.

Soundwave took the datapad back and unspooled his wrist port, plugging it in to download the agreement. Once it was finalized he unplugged and the datapad sparked once, twice, before going dead. The same thing happened to the one in Starscream’s hands and the Seeker threw it on the floor in surprise.

“Autobot Lovers Club, officially in session.” Soundwave sounded mildly smug.

Starscream finished inspecting the palm of his hands and sighed. “So it would seem.” He said, suddenly feeling a wave of regret wash over him. But he stubbornly pushed it down and forced himself to look the telepath head on. “So, what’s our first course of action?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobot Lovers Club is officially in session and things are running smoothly! Until an unexpected skirmish with the Autobots causes one key member of the club to falter.

Starscream sucked on the rust stick as if his life depended on it, glossa coiling around the treat as it gently scraped off the salty rust flakes to reveal the smooth creamy nickle that lay just underneath. Every bite made his entire frame shiver and he hummed contentedly, stuffing the rest in his mouth before reaching into the box in his lab for more.

The purple box creaked with every movement he made but he paid it no heed. He did, however, notice the seething glare Rumble was aiming at him from across the room and he turned to face the symbiont, smiling widely as he stuffed another rust stick into his mouth.

“Boss!” Rumble whined, annoyingly dragging out the middle vowel. “Tell him to stop gorging on my snacks!”

Soundwave sighed. “Rumble, needs to share. Soundwave, will make more treats in the future.”

Frenzy crawled from his own bunk over to his twin’s, leaning in to whisper something in his audial. “Don’t worry, Rumble,” he said loudly, making no attempt whatsoever to be discreet. “Let him eat the whole box. The snacks’ll fill out his aft so much that not even Megatron is gonna want to grab it.”

The symbionts chortled with sadistic glee, rubbing their hands together as if they’d thought up the most ingenious of plots. Soundwave shot them a pointed look and it was enough to get them to quiet down and settle into their respective bunks.

Starscream finished off the last of the snacks with a dramatic sigh, making a show of throwing the box on the floor. Rumble tensed but he seemed to remember Soundwave’s reprimand and soundly kept his mouth shut.

“So,” Starscream said, wiping off crumbs from his elegantly lithe figure. “This is our, what, seventh meeting? What’s on the agenda for today?”

Frenzy’s hand instantly shot up into the air. “Oh oh oh! The Boss had a run in with Jazz yesterday!”

Starscream grinned upon seeing Soundwave flinch and he wished the damn mouthplate and visor weren’t obscuring his view of the telepath’s face. Chances were there was some blushing occurring under there and Starscream would have taken pictures and saved them for future blackmailing purposes if he could.

Unfortunately, the club was still in session and Starscream had convinced himself to be a somewhat-decent team player for the time being. Soundwave had turned out to be a surprisingly good listener and it’d felt good finally divulging all those little details he’d collected and allowed to fester over the eons since Skyfire’s first disappearance.

It was only fair Starscream extended the same courtesy to him.

“Tell me, Soundwave. Did you fall head over heels for him?”

Soundwave shook his helm, surprisingly calm. “Negative. Interaction, occurred--.”

“Jazz snuck up on him during patrol,” Rumble interjected, his torso hanging off the edge of the berth. He glanced at his host mech, grinning. “Just jumped right out of the shadows and scared the Boss silly.”

“Soundwave, was not afraid.”

Frenzy giggled, mimicking his twin’s position on his own bed. “Sure, ya weren’t. That warble of static was just a battle cry.”

Rumble nodded. “Even Jazz was caught off guard. He said it was cute. Then he punched the Boss in the panel and ran away.”

“Nu-uh! That was after the Boss activated his shoulder cannon and aimed it right at his head! He wasn’t going to shoot but Jazz is super paranoid and super-fast and he got a good hit in so he could run away.” Frenzy kicked his legs in the air, amused as he recounted the encounter. “The Boss had to endure the pain all the way back to base.”

Starscream scoffed, “Seriously?” he asked, looking at Soundwave. “The first time he’s ever touched your panel and it’s a kick to the spike housing?”

“Situation, unfavorable.” Soundwave relented, shaking his helm. A hand hovered his panel, as if remembering the pain. He sounded genuinely displeased and the twins were quick to reel in their laughter.

“Take it as a learning experience,” Starscream suggested nonchalantly. He raised his shoulders up and down in a shrug. “Next time, don’t be so obvious about your intent to kill.”

“Soundwave, would not have killed Jazz.”

“But he would have (still would) if given the chance,” Starscream pointed out, optics narrowing. He huffed. “Don’t let you infatuation cloud your judgement, Soundwave. Even if your perception of him has shifted, he still sees you as his enemy. And a dangerous one at that.”

The telepath nodded, understanding. But there was a morose tinge to his EM field and it made Starscream want to roll his optics in exasperation. Reminding himself of the whole reason why he was there, he straightened up in his seat and cleared his intake. “Start small,” he advised, picking stray pieces of rust flakes from between his fingers. “He’s observant so he’s bound to catch on. Work your way up and soon, you’ll have him moaning your name before the war’s even over.”

Silence met his words but Starscream knew it was because they were intrigued. Rumble and Frenzy were sharing awed looks and Soundwave’s helm was tilted to one side, expression thoughtful.

Overdramatic fools, the lot of them. It wasn’t like they could act on that particular sliver of advice.

“You’re smarter than you look,” Rumble groused, his twin nodding enthusiastically beside him. “That degree you got from the Iacon Institute of Science is starting to make a lot more sense now.”

Starscream didn’t dignify their retorts with an answer. He stretched out his hand in front of him, admiring the impeccable shine of his recently repainted fingers. He’d added a few hues that were a darker shade of his main color near the knuckles and the effects were surprisingly slimming.

Megatron had certainly been admiring them as he’d given his report that morning.

The alarm suddenly blared throughout the room, snapping them out of their thoughts and all of them were on their feet in an instant.

“What is it?” Starscream demanded, looking at Soundwave.

The telepath pressed his finger against his audial, visor flickering a couple times before he looked up. “Autobot attack on Decepticon mining facility. Seekers, have been ordered to scramble and investigate.”

“Slag,” Starscream cursed, palming the matrixpad until the habsuite door opened. The Seeker poked his head out to make sure nobody was in the vicinity then ran down the hall towards the Nemesis’ docking bay. Soundwave and his cassettes followed suit, the latter transforming mid-run and sliding into Soundwave’s docking chamber.

When they finally arrived, Soundwave quickly took notice of the fact that they were the last ones to make an appearance. The Seekers and Coneheads were already lined in formation, undergoing their typical departure sequence.

Megatron was standing to the side observing, Thundercracker and Skywarp impatiently loitering beside him. Skywarp was the first to see them and he patted Thundercracker’s shoulder, one finger pointed at their arriving trinemate.

“Starscream!” He said cheerily, “you’re late!”

Starscream tsked. “So it would appear, Skywarp.” He made a show of ignoring Soundwave, who silently slid onto Megatron’s other side.

The warlord was ever perceptive and turned to look at the telepath with narrowed optics. “Tardiness doesn’t suit you,” he said gravelly. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Apologies, Lord Megatron.” Soundwave bowed his helm. “Cassettes, delayed in deploying.” He placed a hand over his chest in emphasis.

“And what’s your excuse, Starscream?” Megatron glanced around Thundercracker and Skywarp to stare at his second lieutenant.

Starscream placed his hands on his hips. “Need I a reason?” he retorted. “Perhaps I fail to see the reason in mobilizing my entire armada for the sake of one stupid mine.”

Thundercracker placed a placating hand on Starscream’s shoulder but he promptly shook it off. Megatron fixed the Seeker with a look and for a moment, his field flared dangerously. Soundwave tensed, expecting retaliation but save for the stiffening of his spinal strut, Megatron did nothing. Instead, he pointed to the open sky that lay before them.

“Seekers,” he said sternly, “deploy.”

Starscream grimaced then transformed and took off, his trinemates following suit. Once alone, Megatron turned to look at Soundwave.

“I hope this...situation will not become a regular thing, Soundwave.” He placed a hand on one of Soundwave’s shoulders, fingers tightening. “The cause, no I, depend on you greatly. Do not disappoint me.”

“Soundwave, acknowledges.” He said, “Mistakes, will not be repeated.”

The warlord offered him a rare smile. “Good.” He jerked his helm, “come now. We have a mine to defend.”

\---

The Autobots had been in the middle of loading the Decetpicon’s Energon cubes into the back of Optimus’ trailer and when the Decetpicons arrived, they were promptly caught by surprise. The foreman of the human operated facility had been the one to alert the Decepticons once the Autobots had arrived and Megatron made a show of complimenting his actions.

The human blubbered incoherently as he groveled at the warlord’s feet and when Megatron dismissed him, he ran off with his workers in tow.

The Autobots and Decepticons then proceeded to go through their usual routine. Megatron yelled out an insult that Optimus eagerly rebutted and Starscream fired the first shot, prompting all of them to launch themselves at one another.

Soundwave made an effort to avoid Jazz, zeroing in on his position and sticking to the opposite end of the battlefield as much as he possibly could. It worked, for the most part, until one of his self-guided rockets landed a hit on Bumblebee and shattered one of his knee struts. The scout stifled a cry of pain, patching himself up as best he could and dragging himself behind a pile of rocks to safely to ride out the battle.

Jazz, like the protective commander that he was, snapped his head up and whipped his helm around towards Bumblebee. His visor brightened as he scanned his subordinate and slowly, oh so slowly, he dragged his gaze up to Soundwave.

His lips pursed and the look Jazz aimed at Soundwave should have frightened the telepath. It was a cold smoldering look, promising pain and the full extent of the saboteur’s fury. But Soundwave felt absolutely no fear. Instead, an odd flash of heat coursed through his frame and his fans suddenly kicked on.

His symbionts paused what they were doing and Ravage sent a pulse of disbelief over their quantum bond.

He hissed. _You’ve got to be joking._

Rumble and Frenzy snickered but a reproachful pulse from Ravage shut them up quickly. The feline ordered the two of them to tail Jazz and keep him in their sights. He was about to request that Soundwave make a tactical retreat but Soundwave promptly refused.

Slowly, he made his descent in an empty field and Jazz appeared a few moments later, shoulders hunched slightly as he glided away from the cacophony of the battle and into Soundwave’s field of vision.

The saboteur flicked his hand and a large pink vibroblade appeared between his fingers. “Decided to face me head on,” he purred, lips pulling back into a dazzling grin. “What a gentlemech.”

Soundwave sent an override code to his fans and they shut off in an instant. The heat in his frame remained, however, and Soundwave exhaled softly through his mouth, heated exvents clogging up the scant space behind his faceplate.

His hands were trembling slightly and he clenched into fists at his side. “Soundwave, not a coward.” He replied, thankful that his modulator regulated his tone.

Jazz placed his free hand one hip. “I know you ain’t,” he said cheerfully. “But you hurt one of my bots and I know you know how much that pisses me off. I wouldn’t’ve blamed you for turning tail and running.” He spun the vibroblade around his fingers, displaying a dexterity that normally would’ve worried the telepath if he wasn’t so focused on keeping his fans from bypassing the override.

“Bumblebee’s injury, not planned.”

“You’re awfully chatty,” Jazz said, voice losing its jovial tone. He snapped the vibrblade back into the palm of his hand and crouched into an offensive position. “I didn’t come here to talk.” Without any warning, Jazz was sprinting across the field and Soundwave activated every hand-to-hand protocol he had stored in his battle computer.

They activated just in time to allow Soundwave to catch Jazz’s wrist, preventing the vibroblade from digging into his neck. But Jazz was not so easily bested and he kicked off the floor, using Soundwave’s grip to flip backwards and aim a kick at Soundwave’s chin.

Soundwave used his other hand to block it, catching the sabotuer’s foot in his hand, fingers digging into Jazz’s ankle strut hard enough to cause sparks. He adjusted his stance and pushed the saboteur away, activating his thrusters and adding a couple macrometers of space between them.

Jazz’s engine growled. “I see you’ve been practicing,” he said, giving his ankle strut an experimental twist. “Learned a few tricks.”

“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied, raising his hands into a fighting posture. An odd thrill was racing through his frame, spreading the heat throughout in a manner that made him feel unusually light.

The saboteur chuckled darkly. “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this.” And then he threw himself at Soundwave once again. Unlike Soundwave, Jazz had speed and dexterity on his side and his fighting style evolved every time his opponent blocked a blow. But Soundwave’s armor was built to withstand heat and intense pressure and even the most carefully calculated of hits did nothing more than scratch the surface.

For a moment, it seemed that they wre evenly matched. Once, Soundwave managed to land a punch that threw Jazz a few feet away but he recuperated within moments and was back on the offensive.

In the end, Soundwave eventually lost the element of surprise and Jazz was able to knock him flat on his back. The saboteur straddled his upper frame, knees keeping his arms pinned against the floor and vibroblade pressed instantly against his neck. Their fans were whirring loudly, Jazz’s slightly more subdued thanks no doubt to a few SpecOps level upgrades.

Jazz exerted a bit of pressure and made a tiny cut on one of the cables. A bead of Energon welled up and it sizzled loudly as it made contact with the hot end of the blade.

Soundwave shivered slightly and if Jazz’s grin was anything to go by, he felt it. 

“It would be real easy to gut you right here,” Jazz said, leaning forward to rest his arms on the plexiglass of Soundwave’s docking chamber. “Just a flick of my wrist and you’d paint such a pretty picture across the ground. It’d be one less problem off my plate, one less bot to worry about.”

Soundwave swallowed roughly, mouth suddenly dry. Jazz watched his intakes bob with interest and he glanced up at Soundwave’s faceplate, a curious glint in his optics. He reached up to tap the tungsten metal with the tip of his finger. “Though I will say...I’ve always been curious of what you’re hiding behind here. Is it an intake port or...a pretty pair of lips?”

“Soundwave, will not yield.”

“Not the wisest thing to say when someone’s got a knife against your cables,” Jazz sang.

Soundwave grimaced. “Jazz, does not scare Soundwave.”

Jazz pretended to look offended. “What? You mean to tell me all those lengthy interrogation sessions meant absolutely nothing?” He stuck his lower lip out in a pout. “And I tried so very hard...”

From his vantage point, Soundwave could see that Jazz’s lips had a bright shine to them, as if he’d recently applied some form of gloss to them.

 _FOCUS._ Ravage’s voice sounded through his mind, snapping him out of his train of thought. _Not sure if you’ve noticed but you’ve got a blade aimed at your throat. Now is not the time to be fantasizing about the enemy._

Soundwave wanted to deny the accusation but even he couldn’t refute what was right in front of him. So he simply closed his optics and sent a pulse of affirmation to the feline.

Ravage let out a sigh of relief. _Rumble and Frenzy are converging on your location,_ he informed. _In two astrokliks, they’re going to surround the area with explosives and we’re gonna need you to find a way to extract yourself before they go off._

Soundwave’s optics darted around, narrowing when they found their target. _Affirmative,_ he replied _. Soundwave, will be ready._

Jazz’s engine revved menacingly and he pressed his weight against Soundwave’s arms by a fraction of an inch. “You talking to your little minions?” He whispered. “Yeah, I could feel you tensing up; you tend to do that when you delve into that bond you share with them.”

Soundwave didn’t have the opportunity to appreciate Jazz’s attention to detail. In an instant, Ravage’s voice reverberated in his head, yelling at him to move and Soundwave did just that.

He sent a command and his battle mask snapped aside, exposing his face to the saboteur for the very first time. Jazz’s visor lit up with interest but it was short lived because Soundwave swung his helm forward and smashed it against Jazz’s nose, cleanly breaking it.

Jazz’s hold on him loosened and Soundwave managed to wiggle his arms free, pushing the saboteur back and activating his thrusters. As Soundwave watched, Jazz pulled himself up into a sitting position, staring up at him with a look that bordered between annoyance and intrigue. But then the explosives Rumble and Frenzy had planted went off and the saboteur disappeared in a ball of dust and smoke.

At the same time, Optimus Prime’s voice rang out over the battlefield, calling for a retreat. Soundwave saw Jazz appear from the ball of smoke and make his way back to his comrades, frame scorched but otherwise unharmed.

Soundwave breathed a small sigh of relief.

Ravage tsked. _I knew those explosives wouldn’t be enough._

 _Jazz, resilient._ Soundwave agreed. He reached up to wipe bits of grime from his exposed faceplates before putting his mask back on. From his viewpoint, Soundwave could see the Decepticons gathering near the mouth of the mine, all of their Energon cubes stacked neatly beside them.

He made his way over to them and when he landed, Megatron was the first to greet him.

“Soundwave,” he said, clasping the telepath on the back. Half of his face was dented and a trickle of dried Energon painted the corner of his mouth but he was grinning. “It would appear we are victorious.”

“Affirmative,” Soundwave said. “Decepticon victory, inevitable.”

“Indeed it was,” Megatron said, giving him one final pat before letting him go. He pointed to Soundwave’s neck. “I would get that looked at if I were you.”

Soundwave dabbed his fingers against his neck and he pulled them back to see smears of fresh Energon on his fingertips. The cut was beginning to sting now that the cyberadrenaline from the fight was starting to wane and Soundwave pressed his palm against it, hoping to stem the flow of Energon.

A small pat against his leg made him look down and he hummed appreciatively as Rumble and Frenzy wrapped their arms around his legs. Both were unharmed.

“You had us worried, Boss.” Frenzy said, cheek smooshed against the dark blue plating of his shin.

“Yeah,” Rumble nodded. “When Jazz had ya pinned, we thought you were a goner.”

“Worry, unfounded.” Soundwave replied. “Soundwave, superior.”

Both symbionts laughed and the gentle rumble of their laughter put him at ease. He looked up to glance around at his comrades, happy to see them all smiling and laughing in spite of their injuries. But a prickle near the nape of his neck caused him to glance over his shoulder.

Starscream had apparently been giving a speech to a pair Coneheads and they were trudging back to the main group with their heads hanging. Starscream, however, was glaring at Soundwave.

Soundwave stiffened.

_Slag._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz is suspicious, Starscream is exhausted, and Soundwave is overwhelmed with guilt.

Jazz leaned his helm back, gritting his teeth when he felt the rush of Energon make its way back up his nose and flood his glossa with that bitter acidic taste.

The pain from his broken noseplate had subsided into a gentle pulsing but the bleeding had not. Prowl had offered him a neatly folded mesh cloth when they boarded Skyfire together and Jazz had taken it with some whispered thanks and gingerly pressed it against his lower face. Everyone had thrown odd looks at him, all warranted since Jazz rarely ever got injured in simple skirmishes but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the uptick in attention.

Jazz appreciated that nobody said anything, the quiet. His helm was beginning to hurt and even when he scrunched his optics shut behind his cracked visor, the pain remained.

He adjusted his grip on the now soiled mesh cloth and tested his broken nose, trying to see if he could somehow pop it back into place. But the slightest movement only acacerbated the pain and Jazz had no choice but to wait until they got back to base and let Ratchet take a look at him.

The thought of being in the medbay made him uneasy but Jazz greatly preferred it to the probability of having his greatest asset risking permanent damage.

He liked his nose.

Besides, crooked fingers and facial features were more Ironhide’s thing.

When they landed back at the Ark, everyone was on their feet in an instant and despite Prowl’s order to exit in a single file line, a few unlucky bots still got a few wayward elbows to the side as they squeezed out. The Praxian waited near the edge of the ramp, eyeing Jazz expectantly who had yet to rise from his seat.

“Jazz?”

Jazz waved a hand. “Go,” he said. “I’ll see myself out.”

Prowl pursed his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, mech. I’ll be fine.”

After a moment of hesitation, Prowl dipped his helm and followed the others inside.

Jazz let out a sigh and shakily rose to his feet. The whole room seemed to be tilting on its axis and he was thankful that nobody was present to see him nearly trip on his own feet as he made his way down Skyfire’s docking ramp. When his feet touched the ground, the shuttle transformed and Jazz soon found himself engulfed by Skyfire’s shadow.

“Do you need any help?” As always, Skyfire was the shining example of chivalry.

“Nah, mech.” Jazz said, helm giving the tiniest of shakes. “I’m just a little woozy. It’ll pass.”

Skyfire hummed. He bent down on one knee and Jazz turned around to face him. “You’re leaking Energon pretty profusely,” the shuttle remarked, voice concerned.

“Sure am,” Jazz replied. “I let my guard down and paid the price.”

“Hm. Soundwave’s a tricky fellow,” Skyfire agreed.

Jazz stiffened. “How’d you know it was Soundwave?”

Skyfire smiled and there was an odd glimmer of regret in his optics. “Intuition,” he replied, rising to his feet. “I have a knack for these kinds of things.” With those words, Skyfire made his way past him and into the base.

Without Skyfire, the desert heat hit Jazz like a runaway astromech and a small warning popped up on his HUD, alerting him that the increase in temperature had kicked his fans on and was beginning to deplete his Energon reserves, all of which were running dangerously low.

He cursed and made his way into the Ark.

The medbay was surprisingly empty, only Sideswipe occupied a cot in one corner and he was draped it over it in an overdramatic fashion. Sunstreaker was standing next to him, stoic and silent as always, occasionally muttering words to his twin through gritted teeth.

Ratchet had his back to both of them, scourging through a cabinet for some supplies. He didn’t glance up when Jazz walked in but he wrinkled his noseplate.

“Take the cot to your left,” he said, grabbing a canister of cleaning fluid and closing the cabinet. He gave it a couple shakes then went to tend to Sideswipe, who was now looking intently at Jazz.

“Busted lip?” Sideswipe asked, all but yelling across the room.

Jazz hopped onto the cot Ratchet specified and shook his head. “Noseplate,” he replied. He lowered the mesh cloth from his face and displayed the gnarly looking mess that had once been a beautiful nose.

Sunstreaker scowled in disgust. Sideswipe pushed aside Ratchet’s hands from his face and stared at Jazz with sparkling optics. “Gross!” He laughed. “Somebody really got you good! Who was it?”

“Classified,” Jazz retorted, ditching the mesh cloth and leaning back to rest his weight on his hands. He turned his helm skyward and closed his optics. Sideswipe tried to ask him again but a loud clang sounded, followed by a pained groan and silence finally reigned.

Jazz’s lips twitched into the start of a smile. Good old Ratchet and his methods of pacification.

The wait time wasn’t too long. Sideswipe wasn’t in danger of offlining of his injuries for once and so Ratchet was able to quickly mend his wounds and send him and his twin on their way. Ratchet’s heavy footsteps made their way towards Jazz’s position and the saboteur’s optics instinctually snapped open and he was greeted with the sight of Ratchet’s bemused expression.

“Sit up,” he ordered.

Jazz complied, albeit a bit slowly. Ratchet’s hands on his face were firm but gentle, tipping his helm back to gauge the full extent of the damage. He tsked softly, shaking his helm.

“Headbutt?” He surmised, gently dabbing around Jazz’s noseplate with the tip of his finger.

“Yeah,” Jazz whispered, grinning weakly. He hissed sharply when Ratchet’s finger pressed against the bridge of his nose. “Ow.”

Ratchet harrumphed. “Yeah, it’s definitely broken alright. Fortunately, the damage is pretty superficial; I just have to reset it and it should heal on its own.”

“Give it to me straight, doc.” Jazz said. “Should I be worried? My rugged good looks are all I got going for me.”

With a roll of his optics, Ratchet nodded. “If you promise to actually drink the medicated Energon I prescribe, I promise you there’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Great.” Jazz’s hands fell to the edge of the berth, fingers gripping it tightly. “Okay. Work your magic.”

Ratchet narrowed his optics. “Sideswipe talks too much,” he said. “But I have to admit, even I’m a little curious. Who did this to you?”

“Don’t distract me, Ratch.” Jazz said. “I got a reputation to uphold.”

“Trust me, everyone is well aware of your high pain tolerance. A little squeal isn’t going to ruin your image.”

Jazz would have laughed if he could but all he could manage was a breathy little chuckle. “Squeals are exempt only for a few lucky mechs.”

“Like Soundwave?”

“Huh?” The word had barely left Jazz’s mouth before Ratchet’s hands locked into place and snapped Jazz’s nose back into place. A sharp crack reverberated through the empty medbay but it was nothing to the scream—brief and quickly stifled but a scream nonetheless—that made both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stumble back from where they’d been pressed up against the medbay door in the hallway.

They both waited silently, tense and ready to run in case Ratchet appeared at the door, but Jazz’s stream of muffled curses soon sounded and Ratchet’s berating baritone followed not long after.

Sunstreaker’s optics widened as he turned to look at his twin.

Sideswipe’s mouth was a wide O of surprise.

“Holy frag.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Sideswipe nodded. “No shit,” he replied, shaking his helm. “Who knew Jazz’s voice could be so high pitched?”

A clang sounded as Sunstreaker slapped his twin on the back of the head. “Not that, you idiot.” He scooched closer, looking around to make sure no one was in the area and whispered. “Soundwave. It was Soundwave who broke his nose.”

“No way.” Sideswipe breathed, looking truly awed. Both of them turned to stare at the door for a moment then the red frontliner perked up.

“Hey Sunny...”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Shh!” Sideswipe pressed his hand against his twin’s mouth, ignoring the angry look his twin shot him. Slowly he pulled his hand back and helped his brother to his feet. “Listen. Remember that thing Sparkplug and Wheeljack worked on? The little satellite they upgraded so it can go into orbit and provide complete surveillance over Decepticon outposts?”

Sunstreaker’s optics narrowed. “The Sky Spy?”

The grin that slowly appeared on Sideswipe’s face was nothing short of diabolical. He pressed the tips of his index fingers together, nudging Sunstreaker with his shoulder.

As usual, Sunstreaker caught on pretty quickly. A rare smile crossed his lips. “Oh, that's genius.”

“I know.” Sideswipe said. The sound of footsteps making their way to the door was their cue to leave and they both made their way down the hallway, towards the command center, as quickly as possible.

\---

_“That insolent, idiotic, scrap-brained piece of---that slagging fool!”_

Starscream threw his pillow against the wall, making both Thundercracker and Skywarp flinch from their place on Starscream’s berth.

They’d noticed something was off with Starscream the moment since he’d arrived late for the last mission and when they returned, they’d tailed him all the way into his room.

Starscream had no excuses to kick them out and the last thing he wanted to do was raise suspicions. So he let them lounge there, wrinkling his imported Vosian berthsheets and filling the room with the putrid stench of that wax they’d gotten from Swindle. Neither of them could smell it and Starscream had been trying to tell them that it wasn’t authentic, regardless of what the arms dealer said.

But of course, neither of them listened. In fact, nobody seemed to be listening to him nowadays.

It was infuriating.

He took a moment to breathe, vents cycling harshly as he doubled over and rest his hands on his knees. He was still angry but he was also coherent enough to know that it did him no good to lash out at inanimate things. The mech who truly deserved a thrashing was down the hall, no doubt moping like the lovestruck fool he was.

“You okay, Screamer?” Starscream stiffened at the inane nickname but slowly forced himself to relax.

“I’m perfectly fine.” He replied, turning to look at his trinemates. “Just a bit frustrated.”

Skywarp crossed his arms over Thundercracker’s cockpit, nodding. “Is it Megatron? He was being a bit of an aft to you back on the landing platform."

Thundercracker grimaced. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Why? Starscream talks about him like that all the time.”

Thundercracker’s expression hardened. “Megatron isn’t interested in getting under your panel, though. Piss him off and chances are he isn’t going to be so lenient.” He looked up, optics narrowing at the vent situated above Starscream’s berth. “And besides, even if he doesn’t hear you, Soundwave’s got his symbionts crawling around everywhere. Megatron will just find out through him.”

That made Starscream laugh. A cold sarcastic chuckle that made both of his trinemates’ wings shoot up in surprise. “Soundwave won’t be a problem.”

“Oh?” Thundercracker’s voice had that tone that indicated that his interest was piqued. It was rare in making appearances but when it did, it was absolutely relentless. Starscream internally cursed himself for being so careless with his wording.

Skywarp caught onto his mate’s train of thought as well, an optic ridge arching slightly. “Does this have something to do with why you and him were late?”

Starscream suppressed a scream of desperation. Trust Skywarp to be annoyingly perceptive at the most inconvenient of times! A litany of explanations and lies ran through his mind, each one less convincing than the last; he could easily spin a story that would sate the both of them but unfortunately, Starscream knew that would only postpone his problems, not solve them.

His fingers came up to massage his temples, attempting to stave off the processor ache he could feel hovering on the periphery.

A small gasp broke through the ensuing silence. “Starscream,” Skywarp said, “don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing...”

“And what exactly am I doing, Skywarp?”

Silence. Starscream made no effort to hide his irked expression. But before he could berate Skywarp for useless dramatics, his trinemate pointed a finger at him and his face was the epitome of seriousness.

“You’re fragging him.”

Thundercracker stiffened, expecting the whirlwind that was an overly defensive Starscream seeking to salvage his dignity. But Starscream was silent, glaring at Skywarp murderously but still surprisingly calm.

Starscream let out a dramatic sigh. “You caught me.” He said, spreading his arms. “What a sleuth you are, Skywarp. You’ve figured it out.”

 _“EW!”_ Skywarp jumped back, noseplate wrinkling. “Slag, I was just kidding, Starscream! I didn’t actually think you’d gone through with it!”

“Slag you.” Starscream bit out, unable to take any more of this conversation. Without another word, he stalked out of his room and made his way to the one place he’d been itching to go to since the very beginning.

Starscream was surprised when the matrixpad accepted his biometrics when he pressed his hand against it but when the door slid open, it was the last thing on his mind. Soundwave was on his feet in an instant, visor flaring in alarm.

The cassettes, who’d been crowded around his feet on the floor, jumped up in surprise.

Starscream’s optics narrowed. It appeared he’d interrupted some kind of meeting.

Rumble and Frenzy stepped between them, arms transformed into their respective pile drivers. “If you’re here to hurt the Boss, ya gotta get through us!”

“Yeah!” Rumble echoed, “we ain’t letting ya touch him!”

Starscream ignored them. Instead, he stepped over them and reached out to grab a hold of Soundwave’s collar flaring, pulling him forward until their faces were inches away from one another.

Soundwave offered no resistance but his movements were tense.

“ _Idiot_.” Starscream snarled, his ventilations fogged up the telepath’s visor. “I should gut you right here and now.”

“Soundwave, acknowledges. Permission to protect own self-interests, granted on behalf of the agreement.”

“Forget about the agreement!” Starscream hissed, giving him a few terse shakes before letting go. “That stupid thing doesn’t matter right now.” He stepped back, optics narrowed. “Is your room secure?”

“Course it is,” Rumble said, sounding very offended. "Nobody can listen in."

“Good.” Starscream allowed himself to minutely relax. He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing around for the beanbag he usually sat it. He plopped into it, relieved to finally be off his feet.

Soundwave sat down on the berth, albeit a bit tentatively. His cassettes quickly followed suit.

Starscream grimaced. “You slagged up.”

“I know.”

“Do you know what this means?”

“Affirmative.”

Starscream shook his helm. “No, I don’t think you do. It’s been fun and games for a while,” he said, lips twitching briefly into the start of a fond smile. “But your little stunt from before put us all in an awkward position. Like the humans say, it’s a strike and you’re out.”

“Actually,” Rumble interrupted. “It’s ‘three strikes and you’re out.’”

“The first strike was forming this stupid club in the first place,” Starscream bit out, scowling at the blue cassette. “The second was your little stunt with Jazz. And the third? The third is for the rumors you’ve allowed to perpetuate.”

“Rumors?” Ravage asked, speaking for the first time since Starscream entered the room. He was perched in the cat tree, tail hanging languidly over the side. “What rumors?”

Starscream huffed. “Apparently word is that we’re fragging one another.”

There were a few beats of silence and then Rumble let out a guffaw. “No way!” he wrapped his arms around his torso, giggling. “As if you could ever land the Boss!”

“Rumble, desist.”

The cassette immediately went silent, muttering an apology.

Starscream sighed. “This has gotten out of hand.”

“Affirmative.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you were the one to ruin everything. And all for a barely budding crush.” He chuckled darkly. “We’re lucky you didn’t actually do anything or else we’d all be in deep slag.”

“We’ve got rumors running around that you two are bumping panels,” Ravage rumbled. “How is this not of concern?”

“Because bots frag each other all the time,” Rumble retorted. “We’ll just say it’s a one-time thing and then everything goes back to normal.”

“Will it?” Ravage challenged, turning to look at their host mech.

Soundwave steadily met his gaze. “Jazz, will not be a problem.”

The feline let out a noise of amusement. “Sure, he won’t. He’ll just become ten times more fixated on you because of that stunt you pulled and then every time he so much as looks at you, your fans are going run wild until you inevitably snap and beg him to take you in the middle of the battlefield.”

“Negative,” Soundwave intoned, voice hard. “Ravage, impertinent.”

“I warned you,” Ravage groused. “But you didn’t listen.”

Rumble scrunched up his nose. “Hey, lay off Rav! He gets it.”

Ravage flicked an ear and curled back into himself, huffing. “Whatever,” he said. “Do what you want.”

Rumble shook his fist at the feline’s back but his twin quickly pulled his hand down, shaking his head.

Starscream tsked. “Are you always this affectionate with one another?”

“All the time,” Ravage mumbled without looking. “I suggest getting used to--.” He paused, frame tensing and then his helm shot straight up into the air. He whirled around to look over his shoulder and Starscream noticed that his optics were narrowed into red hot slits.

Ravage turned to Soundwave. “Somebody’s coming,” he hissed, jumping out of his perch and onto the floor. The other cassettes rose to their feet, every line in their frame edged with tension.

“Who is it?” Starscream whispered, almost exasperated. Something always seemed to be going wrong.

Before Ravage could answer, there was a knock on the door and everyone’s ventilations immediately stopped.

“Soundwave,” Shockwave’s deep voice sounded through the door. “We need to talk.”


End file.
